


Monsters

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Families of Choice, Hunting, M/M, Monsters, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John contemplates monsters, his family, and life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters

Monsters

I. Vietnam

John remembers the first time he killed a man. Not a monster, but a man who lived, breathed and had a family. A boy really… just like him. Two boys from different parts of the world playing soldier. He remembers the surprised sound the man made when John shot him. He would never forget the way their eyes connected for just a moment before John shot him in the head. In that moment he hated himself for taking a life. He didn’t feel like a soldier, he felt like a monster.

***

John was sitting on the sand bags, shoulders slumped and heading hanging. The blood had dried dark, staining his fatigues and adding to the stench of his own sweat. He brought the cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag. His weapon was leaning against his thigh and he had his hand resting on it. When he heard the crunch of gravel, his grip tightened, drawing the weapon up in an instant.

“At ease, soldier…”

John looked up to see his Lieutenant standing there. He huffed at the tone the man used because he was really not much older than John. Only a few years and rank separated them. “Hey, LT.”

“It didn’t go well today.”

That was an understatement. Not all of the blood on his fatigues was the enemy’s blood. He had lost friends. They still called him a FNG, but today he had experienced trial by fire and death. “I made it.”

“Sometimes that’s all we got.” The Lieutenant moved closer and clapped John on the shoulder. “You did good.” The look he gave John was sympathetic. As if he understood that John couldn’t sleep without hearing the gunfire or screams. “Winchester, in battle, duty means nothing, only survival.”

***

John never forgot those words. The soldier who returned stateside in his dress uniform had left the boy he was behind in the jungle.

When some college student spit in his face and called him a baby killer, John just glared at him with hate. The look had made the man back up and hiss, “Monster.”

John had barked with laughter and he answered, “Maybe I am, asshole.”

 

II. Mary

When he met Mary, she helped him feel like a man again. He never forgot the blood or feel of a weapon in his hands, but slowly happier memories began to drown out his sorrow.

She was his light. He always mourned that he only enjoyed a few short years with his best friend and love of his life. John always felt he had barely gotten to know her before she was taken.

***

Mary’s laughter filled the room, even though she was tired. “Go ahead and hold him, John.”

John looked warily at the tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket. “He’s so tiny.”

Mary extended her arms again. “Go on. You won’t break him.”

John’s palms were sweaty and he wiped them on his jeans before he held his son for the first time. He felt clumsy and panicked when Dean squirmed. John squished him to his chest and looked down at the red little face. His mouth gapped open and the world seemed to stop. “My boy.”

Mary’s hand settled on his arm. “Your son.”

John leaned over and gave Mary a peck on the cheek. “You did good.”

Mary laughed again in delight. “Is that your way of saying you love me?”

John had never felt happier in his life. “Maybe.”

***

John only loved Mary more when she gave him Sammy.

***

Mary leaned in and kissed the dark hair so different from Dean’s. She smiled up at John, “This one is destined for great things.”

Dean shifted on the side of the bed, squirming to see his new baby brother. “Wanna see!”

John reached out and ruffled Dean’s hair. “And what’s Dean?” John chuckled, “Chopped liver?”

Mary kissed Sammy again and made a shushing noise as Sam fussed. “They’re both Winchesters.” She looked up at John. “Greatness comes with the blood.”

John made an embarrassed huffing noise. “I’m afraid it skipped my generation.” He chucked Dean under the chin. “You just married a mechanic.”

The look Mary gave him made him shiver. Sometimes she could do that. Look at him a certain way or say something that caught him completely off guard. “Greatness comes with the soul, John, not the job.”

***

As he watched his wife burn, he learned the true meaning of evil.

He hated himself. Remorse mingled with guilt and deep sorrow. Even though he knew he couldn’t save her, he had still made a choice to live. In that instant, he had chosen to live and save their sons, not burn with her. But that didn’t mean a part of him didn’t want to die with Mary. Even though he knew it wasn’t rational and she would have sacrificed her life for the boys, he felt he had chosen the boys over Mary.

John felt worse than a monster. He felt like a failure as a husband. He hadn’t been able to protect Mary.

One of his biggest regrets was that he never got to say goodbye.

 

III. Bobby

John knew the moment he had seen Mary that he wanted to marry her.

The moment he met Bobby Singer, he knew he wanted to punch him in the mouth. The first words Bobby ever said to John were, “My god, you’re one dumb fuck.” Only a few moments after John met Bobby, he punched him in the mouth.

One black eye, several bruised ribs, split lip and raw knuckles later, John knew Bobby was one hell of a fighter and hunter. Bobby didn’t look much better, but they ended up sharing a handshake, good laugh and a bottle of whiskey. That day John met his first fellow hunter and made a friend.

The first time Bobby met the boys, he had picked up Sammy and twirled him around. When Sammy just barfed on him, Bobby had laughed and used his shirt to clean up Sammy’s face. Dean had been wary until Bobby crouched down and whispered something to him. John never knew what Bobby told Dean, but it had lit up Dean’s face with a shy smile. In those days, Dean had been too quiet and withdrawn. John knew he wanted to make Bobby’s place a regular stop when the kids warmed up to the man like that.

***

John slung down the sledge hammer onto the rock with a grunt. He groaned when only a small chip came off. “This would be so much easier if we had dynamite.”

Bobby slammed down his own sledge hammer. “It’s not like you remembered any either, so don’t give me that stink face.”

John raised the sledge hammer up for another swing. The sun was high in the sky and he had taken off his shirt. He didn’t miss how Bobby snuck the occasional look. “Didn’t think we’d be facing one of these.”

“The bridge wasn’t a hint, dumbass?”

“It was on a golf course.” John squinted up at the sky. They had to have this done before it set and make sure the creature would never resurrect itself in the night. “Just glad it only snacked on house pets and never got to kids. Then again, golf courses aren’t known for hosting its preferred appetizer of goats.”

John set down the sledge on the ground, leaning on it. The chain was still secured around the creature’s leg that had trapped it from escaping from the burning sun. As the light had hit its skin, it had screamed, petrifying into rock.

“I could make some explosives outta gun powder…”

“Fuck no,” John laughed. “My eyebrows took weeks to grow back after the last time you did that.”

Bobby shrugged his shoulders. “Then stop bitchin’, Winchester, and start slinging that hammer.”

“Ugly, ain’t he?” John smacked the creature’s petrified face on its bulbous nose. “Sorta looks like you.”

“Ha ha.”

John dodged the sledge that smashed into the creature’s rock face with a laugh. “Then again, most monsters are ugly.”

“Except succubi.”

John picked up the sledge again and took another swing. “Christ, you would argue with a rock for the sake of arguing.”

Bobby took off his John Deere cap and swiped at his forehead. He was breathing hard and half of his face was slightly swollen from where the creature had hit him. “This is killin’ my back.”

John leaned against rock statue and smiled. “The boys are probably running circles around Jim about now.” There was silence between them and John looked up, sharing a smile with Bobby. “Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

Bobby’s smirk was positively evil. “Want me to get the gun powder?”

This was a real stupid idea. He should know better than to trust this crazy son of a bitch. But he was tired, covered in dried goo and wanting to see his boys. John scratched at his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip. “Never liked my eyebrows anyways.”

Bobby gave a hoot and grabbed John by the back of the neck, his touch just lingering a bit. “That’s it, Johnny boy.”

And he should have known it would happen like this. Nothing could go easily or normal for him. In that moment, out in the middle of the bush, standing next to a petrified creature they were getting ready to blow up, John knew he loved Bobby.

His stomach dropped a little looking at that scruffy face that was no where near the ideal of beauty with his sun burned cheeks and hints of wrinkles. The man was everything Mary wasn’t. He was gruff where she had been gentle. Bobby was crass where his wife had been refined. He was deadly as only a hunter could be, where Mary had hated to even kill a spider. And yet Bobby picked up his boys with the same hands that killed deadly monsters. John could watch the bitterness and weariness fall from Bobby when the boys were around. In that moment John realized he loved Bobby because he wasn’t Mary. Bobby was a fellow hunter who understood in the way no one else could.

Bobby had been cracking open a few rifle shells to get at the gun power when John stalked over and kissed him. Bobby dropped the shell, grabbed John by the back of the neck and pulled him close. When the kiss ended, they were both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together.

“Still wanna blow it up?”

John laughed and kissed Bobby quickly, the rub of whisker stubble felt strange. “Hell, yeah!”

And just like that their relationship shifted, but still stayed the same.

***

John never took his wedding ring off and Bobby never asked him to.

The man was his rock and blood brother. And despite all his mistakes, Bobby never looked at him like he was a monster.

John always left, but he always came back.

***

John sipped the beer, looking out into the darkness of the farmyard.

Bobby sat next to him at the kitchen table with a grunt. He grabbed John’s beer and took a long slip. “The boys asleep?”

John grabbed it back and started to pull off the label. “Yep.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, not feeling the need to speak. Their legs just brushed and pressed slightly against one another in a comforting way.

Bobby nudged his leg against John’s. He watched John twirl his wedding ring. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

John kept looking out the window into the darkness. “Just realized I’ve been… friends longer with you than I was married to Mary.”

Bobby never replied to that and John was thankful. Bobby just sat with him in silence, letting him watch the nothingness.

***

The only promise John ever asked of Bobby was to take care of the boys.

 

IV. Dean and Sam

John tried his best to protect his boys from monsters.

He rescued them from the thing that took their mother.

The life of a hunter meant uncertainty, deceit and violence. He tried his best to shield them from the world of hunters and the evilness in the world. One of the most important lessons John taught his boys was ‘family first’. Family before pride, honesty or even self-protection. John scammed to feed the boys and give them what he could. Revenge, obsession and devotion were other lessons they learned as year after year John tried to avenge Mary. He wasn’t a good father and glad he wasn’t. If he had been a good father, then he doubted they would be alive. He hadn’t been a good father, but rather the father they needed, even if that meant he was a bastard at times.

He played the role of both father and hunter. But the taint of the hunt and monsters crept into the life of his boys. John watched Dean grow up too fast and watch his father with eyes that knew too much for a child. Sam managed to keep his innocence a little longer. It was a gift given by both John and Dean, who protected Sam with fierceness born of intense love.

John missed some birthdays and even Christmas mornings, but he taught them how to hold a rifle and to ignore the lies of normalcy. He taught them to look at the world with eyes that could see what was really there with the eyes of a hunter.

He taught them to be soldiers. That meant tears, hurt feelings and to John’s great sorrow, alienating his youngest son. But he taught them to survive and John would never take that back for anything.

***

“I hate you.”

The words seared through John. Sam was looking at him with such loathing. In that moment, John felt a mixture of pain, pride and regret. His youngest son was his own man and rejecting everything the Winchester family was. He was trying to escape and John was torn. He wanted to let him go, but when he looked at Dean, he knew it could destroy them if Sam left. He wished he could give Sam the normal life he wanted. He wished his youngest son would be safe in the world of picket fences and apple pies. But a monster had touched his baby boy and tainted his destiny. John had tried to protect him as best he could and kept that secret. Sam didn’t know what he might grow to be. He didn’t want his son to grow into a monster.

“If you leave, don’t come back…” He felt sick saying it and he wished the threat would keep Sam with them. He knew Sam would leave and only hoped he could find the Yellow Eyed Demon and free Sam before that monster could touch Sam again. That would be the greatest gift he could give Sam. He only hoped Dean could cope and adapt if that came to pass.

 

V. Yellow Eyed Demon

The Yellow Eyed Demon killed him, but it was on his own terms.

He didn’t feel like a monster for asking Dean to kill Sam if he turned. That was something Sam would want if he knew what he may become.

As his heart beat its last, John was laughing. His mind flashed threw random, cherished memories.

Mary in her wedding dress. Mary smiling at him while washing dishes. Dean sleeping, sucking his thumb. Bobby teaching Sammy how to ride a bike. Sam playing football. Bobby’s face streaked with grease as they fixed his truck together. Dean’s smile as he learned to drive the Impala. Sam’s face when they were reunited. All his family.

John Winchester no longer felt like a monster as he embraced death. As his soul was ripped from his body and he looked in to the flames of hell, he laughed again. He had redeemed himself, sacrificing himself for Dean. This prison of torment wouldn’t hold him. He knew his boys would avenge not only Mary, but him. They would live.

The monsters wouldn’t win. John Winchester and his boys wouldn’t let them.

END.


End file.
